


Basement

by LujuriousDeath



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Blind Character, Dubious Consent, Forced Prostitution, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Kidnapping, Lima Syndrome, M/M, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-03 06:07:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19457941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LujuriousDeath/pseuds/LujuriousDeath
Summary: He searched into his pocket until he found a small key. “Take this,” he took the man’s hand and pressed the key into his palm. “When you go upstairs, you’ll see an utility room and then the kitchen, don’t use the front door, use the back one, it’s behind the stairs to the second floor.”Kuroo and Akaashi were both kidnapped by the same person in different times.Unfortunately, only one of them can get out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this instead of doing my differential equations homework and as a way of not to think of everything that's going on in my country (fuck the government, that's what I say)
> 
> I don't know if it has plotholes, but if it does it's because I deemed that information unnecessary
> 
> I'm sorry if they're a little OoC, that's what happens when I write without thinking much of the characters and more in the story
> 
> And the chapters are short
> 
> Also, english is not my first language and I don't have a beta
> 
> Enough of my rambling, enjoy!

Kuroo didn’t think anything about the handsome guy that approached him one day at the bar.

They started as friends, in which Tetsurou could see little quirks in Bokuto’s personality, but everyone has their little weirdness, don’t they?

They started dating not that long after, and even so, Tetsurou failed to see what was truly behind those golden eyes that would often stare at him with curiosity and a hint of madness that was well hidden from the less attentive people.

That’s how he ended in that basement, staring into the concrete wall, lying on a worn down mattress stained with brownish and yellowish spots that Tetsurou didn’t want to know what they were.

He’s just been there for a day, or that’s his guess, he didn’t really have a way to know how many hours had passed, but it couldn’t be more than two days, because hunger had yet to become unbearable. Or maybe being down a possible psychopath’s basement was enough to keep his hunger at bay.

His head was killing him, but if he stayed there one more second he would go mad. So, he decided to explore the place a little bit. He was hooked to a wall by a long chain bounded to his ankle, it was enough for him to walk around the basement, but he couldn’t reach to where the stairs were. On the other side of the stairs where he couldn’t reach, was the laundry room, and next to the washing machine was a heavy looking metal door, and on the other side was what looked like a closet with double wooden doors.

On his side, beside the run down mattress, was a small table that looks like it was meant to be used to eat, but it was so small and light that it could be easily moved. There wasn’t much more, the basement was practically empty; a couple pails near the stairs, a faucet on a corner with a basin full of water underneath it, and a door near the low table.

Kuroo wasn’t sure if it was because of the dead silence of the place, but he could hear every drop of water when it falls on the water of the basin. A steady _plop… plop… plop…_ that was slowly making an echo in his ears.

He walked to the faucet and sat down on his knees in front of the basin and leaned down to see his blurry reflection on the rippled water. He didn’t look much different from the last time he saw himself on a mirror, which was obvious because it hasn’t been that long even if Tetsurou felt like weeks has passed since he was down there.

The sound of steps and creaking floorboard caught Kuroo’s attention and he looked u without standing up. Bokuto was walking down the wooden stairs until he reached the last one, where he stood still watching Kuroo.

Neither said anything and Tetsurou didn’t move from his position. After a long staring contest, Bokuto walked to the small table and left a bowl and a plastic cup on it, before moving again to his position on the end of the stairs.

Apparently, he was waiting for his prisoner to get the unspoked instruction. And of course Tetsurou got it, he wasn’t that dense, but he won’t get near that food. The man had already drugged him once to bring him down there; he wasn’t naïve enough to think that it wouldn’t happen again.

“You need to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Bokuto let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. It wasn’t stylized up as Kuroo would often see him, it was down and it looked soft to the touch, with the white, gray and black locks running down his forehead and ears, hiding part of his thick and arched eyebrows and framing his face, making him look younger than he was. His eyes weren’t fully open and his plump lips were slightly parted with the telltale of the sigh.

And Kuroo wanted to slap himself. Was he really fantasizing about his captor? Well, they were kind of dating before all this happened, and Bokuto was a really handsome man.

“It’s not poisoned or drugged, I promise.”

Tetsurou frowned. “How can I believe you?”

Bokuto blinked once and then frowned. Tetsurou had moved to sit cross-legged on the floor, looking at Bokuto, waiting for a response.

He didn’t get a verbal answer; instead, Bokuto walked to where the food was and lift the spoon with what looks like oatmeal to his mouth and then drunk some of what was in the cup.

He didn’t say anything, but it was implied. Kuroo pursed his lips and crawled to the table. The smell of cinnamon hit his nose and his stomach growled. He was practically sniffing the food.

“I’m sorry I hadn’t fed you until now, I was finishing…” there was a small pause in which Bokuto seemed to forget what he was saying. “Something,” he finished quietly, body leaning forward slightly.

Kuroo wasn’t sure on how to take that weird pause, but he would care and freak out about what it could mean when his stomach was full.

Bokuto sat down on the floor in front of the stairs and stared at Tetsurou eat. Tetsurou felt suddenly self-conscious about his messy eating and tried to avoid looking at the man and finished his oatmeal and water.

“How was it?”

“It was just oatmeal,” Tetsurou frowned, confused at the question.

“How was it?” Bokuto ignored his comment and asked again, making Tetsurou’s frown deepen.

“Uh, it was really good.”

The man’s whole face light up and he stood up to take the plate and cup and walk upstairs with a smile on his face. Tetsurou was honestly weirded out.

~

Keiji knew he was the only one to blame.

He liked to think of himself as perceptive. He could be a little naïve from time to time, but he was good at reading people.

Maybe he didn’t read between lines with Bokuto because they were similar, and Keiji needed something to hold onto to keep his sanity, and that _something_ ended up being his beloved Bokuto-san.

Bokuto understood him as nobody had ever did; they could talk for hours and they would cuddle whenever one of them were feeling down.

Bokuto was everything Akaashi needed, and maybe that’s why he never thought that his drink was drugged that night and Bokuto would drag him to his basement and chain him on a wall.

Akaashi felt like a kid again when he found himself in that situation. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being pushed and locked into a closet by his mad and drunk mother, while she scream at him to just _die, do something good for once and die_.

When he could return from that dark place on his head, he watched around the basement.

The opposite end from where he was was an equipped laundry room, and next to the washing machine, on the corner, was an obviously heavy metal door. He stood up and tried to walk around, but the chain didn’t let him go past the wooden stairs.

He looked back at where he was. There was the stained mattress, a low table, and a basin below a low faucet. He walked to the basin and cleaned his face. He tried his best not to see his reflection on the water.

The floorboard of the stairs creaked, but Keiji refused to look up and confirm the identity of his kidnapper. He wanted to believe it was some random stranger, he tried to. But then he heard that voice he’d come to know so well over the expanse of a few months.

“Akaashi, I’m sorry, I wanted… I don’t want to lose you.”

Keiji didn’t respond, he just stayed there, sitting on his knees, eyes fixed on the uneven concrete floor,

“You are – are you m-mad at me?” Bokuto’s voice tremble and Akaashi felt his heart being squeezed in his chest. “I’m really… really so-sorry.”

Akaashi sighed and cursed himself for having such a big soft spot.

“It’s okay, Bokuto-san –” he was going to continue, but when he turn around he saw Bokuto with a plate of rice balls and a plastic cup.

“You need to eat,” was his explanation while he walked to the low table and placed the plate and cup on it.

Akaashi crawled to the table and look at the food, thinking if it was a good idea to eat it. He wasn’t really hungry and it could have more drugs on it. He looked up at Bokuto, who was watching him with hopeful eyes.

How could he resist that?

Bokuto, even if he was now his kidnapper, had always had that air of innocence and eagerness that makes him look like a lost puppy searching for attention and affection in strangers. Even now, it seems as if Bokuto didn’t know what he was doing was wrong in some way, maybe it was just his way of keeping what he loves.

Keiji knew it was wrong, he shouldn’t justify kidnapping, doesn’t matter if the person had any type of issue, like Bokuto’s obvious abandonment fear.

He picked up one of the rice balls and started eating slowly. Bokuto smiled widely and his eyes light up, making their rare golden color stand out even more. He liked that expression, it makes his chest warm.

If he wasn’t chained to a wall, this could almost look cute and domestic.

~

All Koutaro knows is what he’d seen in the basement.

He lived down there with his mother since he remember, his father always muttering about the freaks they were. Koutaro wasn’t sure what he means by that.

Maybe it was their natural salt and pepper hair, or their big bright golden eyes. After all, Koutaro was a carbon copy of his mother.

Koutaro hated when his father came downstairs empty handed or with a box. He would be pushed away and locked inside the closet.

Of course, that doesn’t muffled the sounds. He could hear everything, from his mothers trying to quite her screams and moans, to the sound of skin slapping against skin, and someone grunting. That last one, when he was younger, he thought it was his father; he wasn’t sure anymore.

There were times when his mom would get sick with some stomach bug, and his father would unchain her and carry her to the doctor. Koutaro wasn’t sure what the doctor do to her, but his mother always return looking exhausted and she would hug him and cry for what seems like hours.

She would always tell him how much she loves him while crying.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because of the chapters being short, I'll try to post every other day
> 
> Please, enjoy this chapter too!

Bokuto would bring down three meals a day and would sometimes sit and talk to Tetsurou.

The conversations were mostly either a one way ranting on Bokuto’s part, or a questionnaire. Bokuto would ask banalities or generic “what do you like” questions. Kuroo was happy to have someone to talk to, or else he would be bored out of his mind.

When he was alone down there, he would explore what little he could or search for a way to break the chain.

The chain looked as it was built into the wall, he couldn’t see any hook, just the chain coming out of the concrete. He tried pulling it several times, but it wouldn’t budge.

He also found out that the door near the table was a bathroom. It was as if the basement was built for someone to live down there. The only thing that the bathroom didn’t have was a mirror, but there was a clear part of the wall just above the sink, meaning that the mirror was removed from where it once was.

The wall next to the mattress was full of scratches and what Kuroo suppose were dried bloodstains.

The metal door had a small window, but Kuroo couldn’t see anything from where he was, it looks like a wall was in the way, or maybe they were stairs. Kuroo wasn’t sure.

He was standing in the middle of what he come to know as his temporal bedroom when the door to the basement opened and Bokuto was walking down the noisy stairs. It wasn’t time for his food, he knows because Bokuto had a box instead of a plate and cup on his hands.

Kuroo watched him until he reach the last step. He eyed the box curiously as it was set on the table. Bokuto didn’t say anything until Tetsurou asked.

“What’s in that box?”

“A present for you, just open it.”

His curiosity changed into fear at those words. He was waiting anything to be inside that box, like someone’s severed body part or a dead animal. But it didn’t smell like blood or death, so maybe it was safe?

Tetsurou wasn’t sure.

“You don’t want my present. Why?”

Tetsurou gaped and forced a smile on his face. “I – I’m just surprised, it’s all.”

Bokuto hummed, but his serious expression didn’t change. He was staring directly at Kuroo, waiting for him to move and open the box. And that’s what he did, and inside the box were a few shirts that Tetsurou took out just to see that they weren’t shirts, they were nightgowns. And underneath them were a few personal hygiene items as well as two butt-plugs and a bottle of lube.

“You don’t have a doll body, so it was difficult searching for clothes.”

Doll body? _What the fuck?_

He didn’t even want to ask.

~

Bokuto would still come down to talk and cuddle, mostly during his meals. Bokuto would apologize often too. Akaashi had to reassure him he wasn’t mad at him.

Akaashi decided to look around the space he could walk whenever he was bored, and came to know every little detail.

The chain was built into the concrete wall, it would be impossible to tear off without a hammer. The door near the table was a bathroom; the mirror above the sink was just in front of the door, and Keiji tries not to look himself in it – he hated mirrors and his reflection.

He also found dried blood and scratches on the wall next to the mattress. The metal door had a small window, but it was impossible to look through it, due to stone stairs blocking the way. He couldn’t know if they were still in Bokuto’s house.

He was used by now to the sound of Bokuto’s heavy steps and the creaking of the stairs whenever he comes down.

This time, Bokuto had a box in his hand, and Keiji was curious about what it could be.

“A present, open it,” Bokuto said, leaving the box on top of the table.

Akaashi leaned over the table and opened the box slowly, not sure what to think about the meaning of _present_.

Inside the box were a few dresses that Akaashi took out of it to examine them.

“Bokuto-san, you know I’m not a girl. Why the dresses?”

“Ah, you see, I always thought you looked like a doll, and dolls wear dresses, right? Also, they are easier than pants, I don’t have to unchain you.”

Keiji’s lips twitched. “What about underwear?”

“You don’t need it.” Keiji was about to ask what did he meant by that, but the older spoke again. “There’s more in the box.”

And effectively, there were hygiene items and a bottle of lube and four butt-plugs, all of them varying in width.

“I want you to get used to those until you can comfortably take the largest, and then I will…”

Akaashi frowned at the pause. Bokuto glanced at the stained mattress and then back at the box. His eyes were unfocused, as if his mind was far away from his body. A look Keiji knows like the back of his hand.

“That was… thoughtful of you, Bokuto-san. Thanks.”

Keiji was intrigued.

~

Usually, Koutaro couldn’t see what’s inside the boxes his father sometimes bring down, and he didn’t want to know either.

But one day, when he was nine, his father went down the basement with a box, but didn’t lock him in the closet.

“Today’s your lucky day, kid.”

Koutaro frowned and he heard his mother gasp and then felt her arms around him.

“You told me you would leave him alone, I’m paying for both of us.”

“He’s still a waste of my money, he’s old enough to start helping you, don’t you think?” The man was smiling. An ugly smile that makes Koutaro’s stomach drop.

When his mother tried to hug him and get him away, his father kicked her away and gripped Koutaro’s wrist, dragging him to the other side of the basement, where the woman couldn’t reach due to the chain around her ankle.

When his father finished with him, Koutaro was crying, with a small butt-plug in his ass and his face reddened from crying and the slap his father gave him to keep quiet.

He clung to his mother, burying his face in her chest, searching for comfort.


	3. Chapter 3

“What happened to the mirror?”

Kuroo actually didn’t really care, but he was bored and needed to make some conversation with Bokuto to keep his mind entertained.

Bokuto looked back at the closed bathroom door. They were sitting on the floor, next to the table.

“I broke it.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like mirrors. I tried hanging another one after but I broke it again, I don’t like mirrors.”

“Right,” Tetsurou muttered. “Where are we?”

“I can’t tell you.”

Tetsurou sighed and nodded. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

“Have you been using the butt-plugs?”

It’s been a few days since Bokuto gave him the box. Tetsurou had been using the nightgowns just because he didn’t have anything else to wear, but he didn’t want to use the butt-plugs. There was no need for him to use them.

“Why would I need them?”

“I don’t like foreplay, it’ll be easier this way.”

“What? I won’t have sex with you.”

“You did before,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“It’s different!”

He frowned and kept the same tone as he said: “Why? You’re still my boyfriend, nothing had change.”

Kuroo wanted to argue that, but Bokuto’s words made him stop himself and rethink that last piece of their conversation.

Did Bokuto really think _this_ was normal?

Nah, it was impossible. Nobody could be _that_ delusional.

“Bokuto–”

“Use it,” he interrupted. “The plug, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I understand, but Bokuto this–”

There was a loud crash upstairs and Bokuto flinched at the sound before standing up and running upstairs.

Kuroo frowned while he watches Bokuto ran upstairs. He thought they were alone in the house, but either there was another person, it was something badly placed or Bokuto have a pet Kuroo doesn’t know about.

Either way, he was alone again in that basement.

He stood up and walked to the bathroom, needing to take a piss, but he was distracted by the empty square where the mirror once was. He forgot his need, curiosity winning over it, and decided to inspect a little. He didn’t have anything more interesting to do anyway.

On the sink, behind the faucet mostly, were really small pieces of broken glass, confirming Bokuto’s story. Other than that, there wasn’t anything else. No bloodstains or anything. Maybe Bokuto cleaned it or didn’t break it with his hands.

When he left the bathroom, he eyed the butt-plug and the lube. Maybe…

Ugh.

He didn’t really like the idea of doing it, but Bokuto seemed unstable enough to rape him with almost no preparation. He didn’t want to know the extent of the _‘I don’t like foreplay’_.

He took the plug to clean it on the sink before returning to the mattress, kneeling on it. He coated three of his fingers with the lube. He tried to keep his mind blank as he worked his ass open for the toy.

The plug was a pain in the ass (no pun intended) to put in, especially when he reached the widest part. It wasn’t as if he’d never had anal sex before, he was versatile and Bokuto had fucked him a few times too, but it was a different kind of stretch, and keeping it in was uncomfortable, he felt his legs stiff. He was sure that if he moved, the butt-plug would slip right out of him.

He lay down carefully on the mattress, trying not to think about the toy in his asshole.

~

“Bokuto-san, is it possible to take the mirror down?”

Akaashi felt Bokuto tilt his head to the side. They were sitting on the mattress; Keiji in Bokuto’s lap with the older man’s head on top of his. Bokuto had barged downstairs in the middle of the night, saying he couldn’t sleep and that he needed Keiji to calm down.

“Why?”

“I don’t really like mirrors.”

Bokuto hummed and hugged Keiji closer to him. “I don’t like them either, I’ll take it down.”

Keiji nodded and rested his head on Bokuto’s bicep. He was planning on taking a small nap when he hears Bokuto speak.

“Have you used the butt-plugs yet?”

Akaashi blushed and shook his head. He’d never had sex or watched porn, he was too shy and he found porn uncomfortable, so he didn’t know well how to do it even though he had an idea (it was called a _butt_ plug for a reason, right?).

“I can help you.”

Bokuto was smiling; Keiji could hear it in his voice and it amuse him how genuine Bokuto could be with his emotions.

“Please,” he muttered. Almost immediately after, he felt Bokuto move to get the toy and the lube, cleaning the toy in the basin.

“We need to clean you first.”

Akaashi frowned slightly, letting Bokuto take the lead. He was the one who knows about these things, after all.

The cleaning was… thoroughly, for lack of a better word. Also, it was uncomfortable having Bokuto clean his asshole properly. He was now lying face down on the mattress, with Bokuto behind him.

He felt Bokuto’s big, heavy hand on his naked ass, exposing his hole to the cold air. He gasped when he felt a cold liquid on his asshole; he supposed that was the lube. When Bokuto inserted one finger, Keiji felt a weird pressure and he wanted to get away from the burn of the stretch.

Not long after, another finger wiggled its way in beside the first one.

“It hurts,” he forced out, voice and thighs trembling.

“I’m almost finished.”

And just as quick as the fingers entered, they disappear and were changed by something almost as thick. The butt-plug, Keiji supposed.

“Once you get used to this one, you can move on to the next size, and don’t hesitate to ask for help.”

Keiji wanted to nod, give some sign of life, but he was too busy trying to figure out how to move without pushing the toy out. He let his hips down slowly and sighed. He could hear Bokuto walking upstairs until he heard the door close.

He was alone down in the basement again.

He could just remove the toy and lie to Bokuto about it, but for some reason he felt as if he would be betraying him, but he didn’t know why.

Bokuto was delusional, his kidnapper and the man who would take his virginity whether he gives it willingly or not. How not keeping an uncomfortable toy inside his asshole could count as _betray_?

Akaashi didn’t even want to think about it.

~

Koutaro couldn’t remember the day he started hating his reflection, but he could remember the first time he broke the mirror.

Kumi, his mother, had been resting on the mattress after crying herself to sleep after yet another visit to the doctor. Koutaro was still trying to figure out what those were. He left for the bathroom and as soon as he opened the door, he was punched in the face by his own reflection.

He was staring at the kid in the mirror. His exhausted eyes, those who had seen a lot of shit for a normal eleven year old to bear. His white hair, peppered with black and gray lines growing from his roots, touching his shoulders in an uneven cut. His golden eyes were missing of any light.

He could see every little piece of his innocence and himself missing.

That wasn’t him; it was a stranger looking back at him.

That wasn’t Bokuto Koutaro, it was impossible.

And before he could comprehend what was going on around him, he felt a sharp pain on his knuckles and he could hear a muffled voice from outside the bathroom. It was his mother, but why was she so far away?

“Kou! Kou, stop it! You’re hurting yourself!”

What?

He looked down at the back of his left hand. His knuckles were bleeding; pieces of glass could be seen clinging to his wound, but Koutaro couldn’t feel it. He was numbed to everything around him.

He didn’t even felt Kumi’s thin arms hugging him; he had to see her from the piece of glass still hanging from the wall for dear life.

Koutaro wanted to punch it again.


	4. Chapter 4

It would be easier if Bokuto was cruel, but he wasn’t.

Kuroo thought that Bokuto not liking foreplay would mean he would be a brute, but he was actually really sweet, taking his time to fuck Tetsurou to the most mind-numbing orgasm he had ever experienced.

And he fucking hates it. But he didn’t hate Bokuto.

He couldn’t.

When the realization hit him, he had already been down there around two months. Two months of seeing Bokuto every day, for at least three times a day. Two months of being down that delusional man’s basement.

Tetsurou stepped out of the shower, drying his hair. He glanced out of the bathroom just to see Bokuto sitting on the mattress, facing the wall. He seemed focused on his task – whichever it was.

Tetsurou wanted to ask him what he was doing, but he was always intrigued by Bokuto’s way of thinking and acting. Deciphering the man was like trying to solve a blank puzzle with missing pieces: impossible and tedious. So he stood there, unmoving and watching.

Bokuto was frowning at the wall, as if he was seeing something nobody else could see. Then, Kuroo remembered what was there: the blood stains.

Bokuto was watching the finger shaped bloodstains.

Kuroo came to the conclusion that those bloodstains came from a previous victim, but if he was watching it with such concentration, it couldn’t be, could it?

That was the moment Tetsurou realized he knows next to nothing about the man – wasn’t even sure if he really wanted to know anything. If he was this messed up, then it should mean something happened to him.

“Bokuto.”

There wasn’t any response, neither verbal nor physical; it was as if Bokuto couldn’t hear him.

“Bokuto,” he tried again, a little louder. Bokuto’s golden eyes flickered to him briefly before turning back to the wall. “What are you looking at?”

“Stains.”

 _No shit, Sherlock_. Kuroo sat next to him with his legs crossed; Bokuto didn’t move. “Why?”

Bokuto looked at him again, this time for longer. His eyes were a blank slate, as if he wasn’t inside his body and it was just a walking shell. “Memories.”

Those brief answers were making Kuroo want to drop the subject and just continue his routine of doing nothing, but he was curious and bored.

“How could a stain bring you memories?”

“They’re bloodstains,” he muttered, and Kuroo had to lean down to hear him, just in time to hear the next part. “My mom’s blood.”

_What the fuck?_

He shuddered and breathes out. “What do you mean…?”

Bokuto scowled and he moved to hug his legs to his chest. “It reminds me of her and dad, he was a son of a bitch.”

“How was your mother?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I don’t know anything about you.”

Bokuto bites his thumb, still looking at the stains. Kuroo wanted to know what was crossing through his mind.

“She was perfect… the most beautiful woman on the world… and she looked like a porcelain doll.”

~

Akaashi had always fantasized about his first time. How he wanted it to be, always changing the _who_ with his current crush. It was often his masturbating material.

But he had never mused about this specific scenario. But, for some twisted reason, it didn’t bother him as much as it should. Having Bokuto’s warmth on top of him, his lips on his naked body kissing, nibbling and licking, tasting and touching every inch of skin he could reach.

Reaching his orgasm with Bokuto’s muscular arms wrapped around him and his dick, hot and heavy, inside him was mind-blowing, at least in Akaashi’s opinion. When Bokuto spilled inside him, he shivered and sighed.

It was intimate. So much different from what he always fantasized, but not disappointing at all.

Bokuto even helped him shower after the glow and grogginess of their orgasms faded. It was easy to forget his situation while being taken care of like this. In other circumstances, Bokuto would have been the perfect boyfriend.

Keiji snuggled closer to Bokuto. He went upstairs to take a shower too and returned to the basement to lie down next to Keiji, and Keiji was happy to press his nose on Bokuto’s chest and inhale his body wash.

“Your hair is getting longer…” Bokuto muttered, running his fingers through the wavy hair. “But I like it, makes you look so much like a doll.”

“I don’t understand that.”

“What?”

“The doll thing.”

Akaashi couldn’t see Bokuto’s face properly, so he didn’t have a way of knowing if he was just thinking or if the question actually bothered him. Bokuto was unpredictable when it came to emotions and reactions.

“My mom looked like a doll and she was so beautiful, I want to find someone as beautiful as her.”

The question popped up almost immediately, but Keiji discarded it to the back of his mind to be forgotten. He didn’t want to think of Bokuto and his mom having _that_ type of relationship; it was just normal thinking, it was completely normal to think of one’s mom as the most beautiful woman, and even though Keiji would beg to differ, his was a different case.

“Did you… Have you found them yet?”

Bokuto pulled apart to watch Akaashi in the eye. His golden eyes were shinning with something the younger couldn’t decipher what it was and if it was safe or not. But after a few seconds, Bokuto’s eyes travelled down to his lips and leaned forward to kiss him.

“You’re almost as beautiful as her.”

~

Watching Kumi through Koutaro’s eyes was watching a goddess. She always took care of him, even when she was sick or every movement of her body was a torture. She didn’t care; her first priority was always Koutaro.

His father, on another hand, was a demon. The poison to a beautiful flower, the Ares to Aphrodite. He was there just to make sure Kumi’s life a living hell.

Koutaro swore to himself one day that he’ll kill his father, he would be the one to liberate his mother from that demon’s claws and they would both be finally happy.

That was way back when he was seven years old. But it wasn’t until eight years later that he could finally do it.

He had already been upstairs a few times; he was his mother’s replacement whenever she was out of commission. His duties would vary depending on the day, sometimes he would do ‘maid work’, as his father called it, other times he would have to service some of his father’s friends. This time, it was maid work, so he was alone upstairs with his father.

The knife was sharp. He knew it, he was using it just minutes ago; it slide nice and easy through the beef he was cutting. His father wouldn’t even know what hit him.

The living room was just across the kitchen, and the armchair his father was sitting on had his back to the doorframe.

Koutaro gripped the handle of the knife and steadied his breathing, walking slowly. He could hear his blood pumping in his ears, drowning any other sound that wasn’t the hard beating of his heart.

The adrenaline high of stabbing his father’s had his whole body trembling. Watching the man struggling to keep his wound from bleeding woke up a deep, dark satisfaction in Koutaro.

And he wanted to scream out of pure happiness when his father finally stopped breathing. He was free. They were free. He could finally leave in peace without his father’s oppression, he could free his mother.

But what he never thought was that they were both birds with chopped wings; they didn’t know how to fly on their own, and his father always provided for them even though he was an asshole.

The first step was done. The next one was survive in the wild when they had always been captive animals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though is so short, I love this chapter, it's one of my favorites


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is way too short, but ooooooooh well

Tetsurou rattled the chain against the floor out of boredom.

He was sure it’s been months since he was down there, but he couldn’t know exactly how many, but he already cut his hair three times, but he couldn’t calculate the time with just that.

However long he’d been in Bokuto’s care, it was enough for the man to start sharing a bit of his mind with Kuroo. He would often sit down there and just talk with Kuroo. Bokuto wasn’t the most conversational person and he would often get lost in his own mind, but his weird comments and the way he looked excited with the smallest things was endearing.

But they would often get interrupted by a sound upstairs. Bokuto would straighten his body and leave the sentence in the middle before running upstairs.

Kuroo was curious.

Was there someone else in the house? He wanted to ask.

He heard steps and the sound of old wood crying under the pressure and he didn’t have to look up to know that Bokuto was coming downstairs again.

Bokuto sat in front of him, his face blank as always.

“I thought you lived alone…” he commented in a faked disinterest.

“I don’t, I live with a friend.”

Tetsurou frowned. It didn’t make sense, the laundry area was down here and he never saw anyone coming to the basement that wasn’t Bokuto. That may have resolved his main question, but make space for many small ones.

“Oh,” he decided to say, trying not to show his confusion. “And how come I never saw them?”

“He’s blind, so they can’t come down here.”

It doesn’t matter how much he tries, Tetsurou couldn’t envision Bokuto actually taking care of someone, even less if that person was blind.

Tetsurou looked up to the door as if he could get a glance of whoever was in the house with them. And then, a question popped into his mind. What would happen if he screams? Would that person be able to hear him?

He bit his thumb.

Bokuto was watching him, almost boring holes into him. Tetsurou kept his eyes on anything that wasn’t Bokuto, trying not to think on the man’s yellow eyes. He tried to tell himself that Bokuto couldn’t read his mind, that it was impossible.

When Bokuto left again, Tetsurou could still feel his intense glare on him.

~

The first time Akaashi went upstairs he was nervous and he didn’t even know why.

Bokuto was smiling the whole time, telling Keiji he had a surprise for him, and that he couldn’t wait to show him.

But Keiji couldn’t help feeling like he wouldn’t like that surprise. Anxiety was pooling in his stomach, making him nauseous.

He was dragged around the house by an excited Bokuto, who was showing him every corner of the quiet big house. Until they ended in the kitchen.

“You will live up here with me from now on,” Bokuto said, while looking for something in the counter below the sink. Keiji just waited there, glancing around awkwardly and rubbing his bare feet with each other. “But first, there’s something you need to know. Close your eyes.”

His rational side was screaming at him to not close his eyes and use that opportunity to run, make his escape. But Bokuto had never been unnecessarily cruel with him, he didn’t have a reason not to trust him.

Still nervous, Keiji closed his eyes.

Oh, how stupid he was.

The next thing he knew was that some liquid was being poured into his eyes, burning him, making him scream. It was unbearable; he wanted to claw his eyes out just to have a way to stop the pain.

“I’m sorry, Akaashi, this is necessary if I want you by my side.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was suppose to be up like three or four days ago, but I've been obsessively playing zelda this weekend and I forgot, sorry 
> 
> Last chapter, shortest chapter
> 
> Enjoy!

Akaashi gripped the railing hard, in case he missteps. He walked down the creaking stairs slowly, he didn’t want to trip.

Every sound was tenfold worse on his ears without the constant sound of either the outside world, music or the television. He could hear the steady _plop_ of the faucet onto the basin below it, and he could hear the rattling of chains as whoever was down there moved.

“You’re not Bokuto,” the stranger said when Akaashi reached the last step. “Who are you?”

“My name is Akaashi,” he introduced himself, doubting for a moment his next words. “I’m Koutaro-san’s boyfriend.”

“You’re the blind friend.” It wasn’t a question, but Keiji nodded nonetheless. “I thought you shouldn’t be down here.”

“Yeah, supposedly…” he muttered, walking and feeling the ground with his feet to keep from falling. He hears more rattling and then he felt a pair of hands gripping his forearms and a low ‘sorry’. “Koutaro-san isn’t here and he won’t be back until late tonight, you need to get away from here. He will kill you.”

Akaashi searched into his pocket until he found a small key. “Take this,” he took the man’s hand and pressed the key into his palm. “When you go upstairs, you’ll see an utility room and then the kitchen, don’t use the front door, use the back one, it’s behind the stairs to the second floor.”

“What about you?”

“It’s too late for me,” Keiji smiled with sadness, his dead eyes staring ahead. “I can’t get out of here, but _you_ can, I just want to know your name.”

“It’s Kuroo.”

“Good luck, Kuroo-san.”

~

Kuroo watched Akaashi disappear upstairs again and he looked down on his palm, where the small, metallic key was resting. He gripped the key, trying to calm himself.

He wasn’t sure if he could trust Akaashi, or if this was some kind of stratagem that Bokuto thought up. It was a huge possibility.

He looked down at the chain keeping him tied to the wall and then at the key again. He could at least try.

~

Koutaro came home with a smile and a small box containing Keiji’s favorite food. He was in a good mood that night and he couldn’t wait to carry Keiji to their room and make love to him until morning.

But there was something off in the house, so he left the box in the kitchen and rushed downstairs. No one was down there.

Kuroo wasn’t there.

“Akaashi!!”


End file.
